


Peace of Mind

by Aces_and_Roses



Category: Rusty Quill Gaming (Podcast)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Light Angst, Loss, Mentions of Major Character Death, Mild Gore, Nightmares, Platonic Cuddling, just in a nightmare though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-07
Updated: 2019-04-07
Packaged: 2020-01-06 02:57:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18379526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aces_and_Roses/pseuds/Aces_and_Roses
Summary: Hamid isn’t unaccustomed to nightmares. In fact, it’s quite the opposite, Hamid and nightmares are quite intimately acquainted. After everything that he had seen, had experienced, how could they not be?





	Peace of Mind

Hamid isn’t unaccustomed to nightmares. In fact, it’s quite the opposite, Hamid and nightmares are quite intimately acquainted. After everything that he had seen, had experienced, how could they not be? The plant-zombies in Kew, Mr. Ceiling, zombies in Prague, the creatures in Rome. However, being used to nightmares doesn’t mean that Hamid enjoys them, or even that he deals with them particularly well. It just means that he knows what they feel like, and can semi-effectively gauge how badly he was going to be affected by them the next day.

He could already tell that this was going to be a bad one.

The problem isn’t that he had woken up crying, he was pretty used to that by now. It isn’t even the remnants of the nightmare still flashing through his mind; his family, his friends, dying while he stands by, completely helpless, silently watching as they beg him to save them. No, the problem is that his breath is hitching with sobs, sobs that sound much louder than they reasonably should in the otherwise silent room, and he can’t seem to stop them. The problem is that he isn’t alone here - Zolf is right there, just across the room - and if he doesn’t figure out how to calm himself down soon he’s going to wake him up.

_Bertie, lying dead on the stage in the Prague opera house. He had never seen the body, and yet there it was, clear as day, bloodied and broken. It didn’t match what the others had told him at all. Bertie’s eyes are open, bloodshot and swollen, looking at Hamid, a silent plea reverberating in the space between them._

Hamid sits up slowly, hoping to make as little noise as possible, and leans forward to put his head in his hands. He tries to slow his breathing, to steady himself, even as every hitched breath and cut off sob seems to echo, uncomfortably loud and jarring, through the room.

_Aziza, silent and still on the ground, body bent and contorted at impossible angles, a trickle of blood falling from the corner of her mouth. Staring at Hamid, silently mouthing the words ‘Help me, Hamid, save me, please,’ over and over. Silent and yet so, so loud._

There’s movement on the other side of the room, where Zolf had been sleeping, should still be sleeping (would probably still be sleeping, Hamid thought, if it weren’t for him). “Hamid?” he whispers, sounding concerned.

_Sasha, burned and bleeding, fire still licking at her clothes and hair. Her hand clutching a dagger, voice breaking as she screams (she never screams, this isn’t right). Screaming at Hamid, ‘It’s all your fault! You did this, it’s all your fault!’._

Hamid doesn’t respond, hoping that if he stays quiet, Zolf will just go back to sleep. Despite his efforts to the contrary, another sob rips itself from his throat, the sound only slightly dampened by his hands on his face. “Hamid, are you… What’s wrong?”

_Grizzop, so still, too still, looking so, so wrong. Hamid is pretty sure Grizzop has never been this still, didn’t think he was physically capable of it. Blood is pooling around him, the circle expanding by the second. He glares at Hamid, eyes filled with such contempt, as Hamid hears him say, ‘Could’ve had more time, if not for you,’ even though his mouth doesn’t move._

“I- I’m fine, Zolf. It’s fine.” He knows doesn’t sound fine, but he forces the words out past the lump in this throat anyway, his breathing rapid and uneven. A desperate attempt at something, though what, exactly, he isn’t sure. “Go back to sleep.”

_Azu, her body covered in wounds she can’t heal. Curling into herself in a way that makes her look small and timid, the antithesis of everything Hamid knows her to be. He reaches for her and she flinches away, eyes full of anger, like he’s betrayed her. ‘Don’t touch me. You did this.’_

“No, you’re not.” Hamid hears Zolf get up, move across the room. Feels him sit down next to him, close, but not quite touching. Zolf puts a hand on Hamid’s back, hesitant and unsure. “What can I do?”

_Zolf, legs gone, blood and water flowing from the ragged stumps where they used to be. Lashing out with his trident when Hamid tries to move closer, ‘Stay back, stay away! You could have stopped this, and you did nothing! Can’t you see I don’t want you here?’_

The hand on Hamid’s back moves in slow, soothing circles. A reassurance that Zolf is right there, that he doesn’t hate him. Hamid straightens up slightly, taking his head out of his hands, and turns to look at Zolf. Zolf, who looks tired, whose hair is an absolute disaster, and who seems deeply uncertain of how to proceed. Zolf, who, despite his uncertainty, is here, trying to help. Zolf, who doesn’t hate him, who doesn’t blame him for everything that had gone wrong.

_Bertie, Aziza, Sasha, Grizzop, Azu, Zolf, his mother and father, Saira, the twins. All dying, all blaming him, all pleading for him to fix it, and Hamid is powerless to do anything._

Zolf is here. Zolf is okay, the others are okay. Everything is going to be alright.

“I… I know you don’t like hugs but… I could really use one right now.” Zolf pauses for a moment, then Hamid feels the hand leave his back as Zolf shifts to sit in front of him. Hamid is gently pulled forward into Zolf chest, warm and solid and real. Zolf’s arms go around him, and he buries his face in Zolf’s shoulder.

Zolf doesn’t hate him. Everything is going to be alright.

“Thank you,” he says, loud enough for Zolf to hear despite being muffled by the fabric of his shirt.

One of Zolf’s hands starts moving in circles on Hamid’s back once more, and Hamid feels safer than he has in months. “Anytime, Hamid.”

Hamid let himself drift. Everything is going to be alright.

**Author's Note:**

> I can be found on tumblr at disasternureyev.


End file.
